


Lurline

by agirlnamedtruth



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Beaches, Day At The Beach, Desperation, Embarrassment, Exhibitionism, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Female Ejaculation, Hot Weather, Kink Meme, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Voyeurism, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-07 20:48:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6823564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agirlnamedtruth/pseuds/agirlnamedtruth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen really doesn't understand the allure of beaches; being burnt to a crisp by the sun, getting sand where she definitely didn't want sand and not a bathroom for miles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lurline

**Author's Note:**

> Written to fill [this prompt](http://kinkme-merlin.livejournal.com/36623.html?thread=41866511#t41866511) at Kink Me Merlin and also for [MMOM](http://mmom.livejournal.com/).

Britain just wasn't made for heat waves like this, Gwen decided, using her book as a makeshift fan having given up being able to actually enjoy it. She really didn't understand the appeal of beaches. Two hours cramped in a car with her knees practically starting a war with Merlin’s elbows while Arthur drove in such a way that she might accuse him of purposely trying to throw her into Merlin’s lap at every possible roundabout, bend and corner if she didn’t know better. And for what? To lie on a towel with a map of Corfu on it and get sand where you didn’t _ever_ want sand. No, thank you.

Gwen shook her head. She was just tired and hot and irritable. They'd made it in the end. And at least it wasn't raining. But bloody hell, was it hot. It was alright for Morgana, she was one of those girls that looked perfect no matter what she did. And it was ok for Arthur too because he could run around like a lifeguard on Baywatch, the nonexistent breeze in his hair and when he was sweaty, it was in that _manly_ way. Even Merlin, who she thought would be suffering just the same as her, seemed perfectly content to sit and turn slowly redder and redder like he was trying to slow-cook himself. Then again, Gwen thought to herself, knowing her best friend like she did, there was nothing he wouldn't happily endure for Arthur. She, unfortunately, was not cursed with the same affliction. However, she was cursed with a similar inability to say no to Morgana when she batted her perfectly curled eyelashes and smiled at her like the happiest girl in the world. That’s why she’d ended up pulling on the only swimsuit she owned; a sporty, racerback, totally not sexy black number, the first loose button up shirt she could find and a pair of shorts with a dodgy zip and rips in them that these days could just about pass as retro. All in the hopes that Morgana might suddenly fall for her. Meanwhile the lady herself was led casually sunning herself in a stunning designer bikini that probably cost more than Gwen’s rent. It was hopeless, really but she couldn’t help loving her.

Gwen shook her head at herself, combing her fingers through her hair, feeling it start to frizz already, her sweaty palms not making it seem any better. She didn’t know if she could stand sitting doing nothing much longer.

“Does anyone fancy a dip?” Gwen asked hopefully but Merlin just distractedly shook his head, mumbling something about sunburn and salt water and Morgana pushed her sunglasses down just enough to inform her how disgusting the sea was these days, what with all the chemicals and sewage and used condoms being dumped in there. Gwen pulled a face, toxic waste was a far off concern of hers but she didn't really want to swim through a sea of strangers’ spunk filled balloons, jellyfish were bad enough. 

“An ice cream then?” she tried again, pointing out the tiny van with its sun bleached slowly stripping paint but she was met with the same disinterest, this time with mutterings about dairy and diets.

Gwen bit her lip, needing something to cool her down before she scratched her skin off. Spotting a far off patio bar between the dunes, Gwen’s eyes lit up. “Cocktail?”

For a moment, Merlin looked tempted but Arthur beckoning him over soon put an end to that. Glancing sideways, she turned her best puppy dog eyes on Morgana, borrowing a leaf out of her book and hoping it worked just as well on her. “I’ll buy the first round.”

“Fine…” Morgana said as though Gwen was going to lead her over hot coals to her own death rather than over hot sand to a free drink.

Gwen grinned, she knew it was a front and that once Morgana had a drink in her hand and a bartender to charm, she'd magically become a social butterfly. While Morgana to gathered herself up and packed away her valuables, Gwen practically jumped up like her towel was on fire, stretching out with a groan, trying to circulate some air over her sweaty, sticky skin before she grabbed her flip flops and started the hike up to the bar in the hope that Morgana would get a move on.

After a decidedly longer walk that she’d anticipated, with Morgana endlessly trying to get signal on her phone as they scaled to higher ground and the piece of seaweed that had gotten decidedly lost and tangled itself in Gwen’s flip flop, they finally made it to the bar. Despite the initial disappointment that the air conditioning she’d hoped for was just a tired looking desk fan on the end of the bar and the cocktails consisted of red or white wine, lager or cider, Gwen plastered on a bright smile.

“There, that’s a bit better, isn’t it?” she said, half to herself because in fairness, it was better than nothing and she’d dragged Morgana all the way up here, she wasn’t about to drag her all the way down again.

“It’s... quaint?” Morgana said, politely taking off her sunglasses and surveying the place with a raised eyebrow. Still, she took a seat at the bar and perused the menu like she was actually thinking about it. “A bottle of the... ah, Pinot Grigio, please.”

Gwen tried not to cringe. She was dying for something she could down in one go. Not exactly the most ladylike thing to do but God, was she thirsty. The idea of dry, crisp white wine made her throat feel like sand. Swallowing hard, she laid an extra fiver on the table. “And a bottle of water, please.”

“Actually, make that six bottles, I’m sure the lads are thirsty too,” Morgana said, smiling at Gwen sideways without taking her eyes off the menu. “Merlin especially, it would seem.”

Gwen sat down as close to the fan as she could, gulping down her water, unable to stop the blush that crept to her cheeks whenever she indulged in seemingly harmless gossip with Morgana. It had a bad habit of getting juicy quickly. Getting her breath back and silencing a hiccup from drinking too fast, Gwen finally indulged her. “Do you think he has a crush on your brother?”

“Please, if he had any more of a hard on for him, he’d have to dig himself a hole in the sand for it,” Morgana said, her tone shameless as she poured them each a glass of wine. “I’m almost scared to leave them alone; Lord knows what we’ll go back to.”

“You don’t think they’d... not in public, surely,” Gwen started. At the slight but telling inclination of Morgana’s head, she quickly changed course. “Are you sure one bottle is enough?”

When the bottle was sunk, Gwen finally pushed away from the fan. She felt human again now. Cool and happy and... alright, maybe she was just a little bit drunk, she realised as she stumbled down from the bar stool.

“Here,” Morgana said, her goddess-like ability to not sweat seemed to also include the power to walk straight and speak clearly when she had no right to be more sober than her. Gwen took her hand and the bottle of water Morgana offered her, gratefully downing it to rehydrate herself. “Let’s go back down to the beach and we’ll sleep it off for a bit.”

“I just need to...” Gwen started as she looked around the place, her eyes landing on an out of order sign on the only toilet. “Never mind, I’ll wait.”

“Don’t worry about it, darling, you can go in the sea like everybody else,” Morgana said reassuringly as she took her arm, her gait mercifully slow. “It’ll be a drop in the ocean compared to what the Government are doing these days...”

Gwen nodded along to Morgana’s rant, not really listening but the sound of her voice, impassioned as it usually was, had always been a comfort to her. Taking step after step, the sea air, however stifling, did its bit to clear her head as they walked back to the beach, luckily finding everything where they’d left it and everyone with their clothes still on.

“I owe you a tenner,” Morgana muttered under her breath and Gwen couldn’t help but giggle, the world spinning for a second and her belly fluttering as the muscles tightened, making her need to sit down before she stumbled again. “Come on, time for a nap, Guinevere, darling.”

Gwen nodded, letting Morgana make her comfortable on the towel, even letting her borrow her sunglasses so that she could block out the blinding sun. She’d only had a few glasses and she usually handled her wine better than this but between skipping breakfast so they could get an early start and only eating the sweets that had been passed around in the car, Gwen had to admit, she needed a rest.

“Night, Morgana,” she said as she nuzzled into the towel, the heat making her sleepy quickly and the wine making her sentimental. “Love you.”

“I love you too, silly, now go the fuck to sleep,” Morgana said with a laugh as she pressed a kiss to Gwen’s temple and pulled her own towel closer so she could keep an eye on her.

After the third or so concurrent dream about relieving herself in various strange places, Gwen startled awake, her mouth dry, her head banging and her skin feeling tight again. But worse than that was the sharp pulsing pain in her belly, her bladder crying out for mercy.

She glanced over at Morgana, only a few inches away, still sleeping like a dark, pale angel. Across the beach were Merlin and Arthur, playing what appeared to be strip volleyball if their deteriorating lack of clothing was anything to go by.

“Morgana?” Gwen tried gently, hoping she was just resting her eyes but no such luck. “Morgana, I need a wee… oh, come on, don’t make me go on my own.”

When there was no rousing her, Gwen bit her lip, assessing her options. The nearest toilet was back up at the car park. And to get there, she'd need to leave someone with their stuff. And she needed someone to volunteer to do that soon if she was going to make it in time.

“Merlin? Arthur?” she tried but she couldn't get up enough volume to get their attention without waking Morgana. “Guys... for fucks sake.”

Pulling her knees in towards her, she tried to ignore it, rocking gently back and forth. She picked up her book again and read the same sentence four times before she put it down again, another warning stab of pain telling her that it wouldn't be ignored. 

“Damn it!” Gwen stood up, discreetly jiggling one leg as she looked around again as though a magical WC might appear from nowhere. She wished she was smooth enough to walk right by Arthur and Merlin with her head held high, pretending to be going for an innocent swim. But she knew she couldn't do that, she'd end up being completely obvious and make everyone awkward instead and they’d all laugh at her, reminding her of the time she was too scared to put her hand up in class to use the bathroom. And everyone knew how that ended. Badly.

Huffing to herself, Gwen’s eyes settled on the sloping hills of the dunes in the near distance, rising up protectively on either side of the path that led back up to the bar. Near enough to hear if someone started nicking their stuff at least but blessedly out of sight of her friends. As if her bladder knew relief was close, it started throbbing insistently, her cunt feeling unbearably hot, blood pounding in her clit for some unknown reason, as if that would help anything. 

Giving one last look around her, checking everyone else was still distracted, she ducked behind the nearest dune, praying nobody would walk that way any time soon. It wasn't until she reached for the button on her shorts that she remembered her swimming costume was a one piece.

“Fuck…” Pressing her hand to her cunt, she desperately tried to use pressure to dull the throbbing, telling her body to hang on just a few more seconds. 

When she was sure it was safe, she pulled her hand back to pull her top over her head, pressing her thighs together but it wasn't enough. Her legs shaking from the effort of trying to hold it all in, Gwen let out a tiny whimper as the first little dribble escaped. She clamped down on it with her whole body, wondering why the hell she’d never practised kegels before even though thankfully, it stopped. 

This time, she pressed her fingers brutally hard into her cunt, legs still pressed together, dancing on the spot while she desperately tried to slip out of her bathing suit one-handed, really not giving a single fuck now that not only would any casual walkers stumble upon her taking a piss out in the open, but they’d also get a good look at her tits as an added bonus.

When she'd rolled her costume down to her waist, switching hands really quickly in the process, she stopped and bit her lip. She could still feel the little wet patch against her skin and it was cold now, not helping her need to pee in the least. She'd reached an impasse. She couldn't undo her shorts without moving her hand and she couldn't pull them off without opening her knees. And she knew if she did that, it would be game over. But she couldn't hold on indefinitely either. The levee had to break. 

Digging her fingertips into her cunt hard enough to bruise for a few seconds, she risked pulling her hand away but the instant she did, the dribble started up again, the wet patch growing. Gwen desperately pressed her hand back into her shorts but this time it wouldn't stop and she could feel the denim growing damp under her fingertips.

“Fuck… fuck,” she whined, panicking, giving up trying to stop it and instead ripping desperately at the button on her shorts, crouching down before she'd even got the zip down, her hand reaching out to the dune to steady herself so she didn’t fall. A sob of relief caught in her throat as the intensity of trying to hold it in reached its peak and the trickle turned into a flood. She could feel the unstoppable stream rushing forcefully out of her, over her clit, seeping through the denim pressing tight into her still, her moan almost sexual as she accepted it, blissfully pissing herself as she gasped at the overwhelming release, her eyes falling closed, heat spreading out as she soaked through her shorts. Her heaving breaths turned into a satisfied sigh as the stream started to slow, a few drops dripping from her saturated shorts onto the sand below her, the only sign of her even having done anything, the thick material soaking the rest up.

As soon as she was done, Gwen realised just how screwed she was. Standing up, she inspected the damage, pulling her wet shorts out of her cunt where they’d bunched up, cringing when they clung on for dear life to her skin. It wasn't until she reached for her shirt that she realised she wasn't alone.

“Morgana!” Jumping guiltily, Gwen covered her tits, looking at Morgana with wide eyes, feeling her cheeks redden. Oh God, oh fuck. Tears sprung to Gwen’s eyes. How could she even look Morgana in the eye again, let alone hope that she would ever find her attractive or want to be with her. “I… I was just…”

“Pissing yourself?” Morgana asked, closing the gap between them. “I saw.”

“It was an accident. I couldn't get my costume off in time…” Gwen tried to explain, her voice choked with tears, looking away embarrassedly as she yanked the offending article back up.

“I know, I was watching,” Morgana said, reaching slowly out and stroking her hand over Gwen’s wet arse, pulling her into a hug, breathing against her ear as she whispered, “Fuck, you have no idea how hot it was.”

“I'm sorry… what?” Gwen asked, pulling back, a little baffled. She'd had a fair few dirty dreams where Morgana said those words to her but never quite in this context. 

“Watching you like that turned me on so much…” Morgana explained, shivering as she squeezed Gwen’s arse, the denim squelching obscenely. “It's so intimate, so sexy to watch you lose control like that. I'm nearly as wet as you are.”

“Really?” Gwen asked nervously, remembering how good it had felt to finally let go when she needed it so badly, remembering how much her clit throbbed with the pressure being exerted on it when she tried to hold it in and how she’d desperately pressed her fingers into her clit when she couldn’t bear it anymore. She supposed it wasn’t all that different to wanking really, when she thought about it like that.

“Fuck yeah really,” Morgana said, fingers slipping under the waist of her bikini bottoms. For a moment, Gwen thought she might touch herself, something she certainly wouldn't object to but instead she pushed them down and stepped out of them, bearing her cunt and its pretty little landing strip to Gwen's eyes, completely unabashed. “Do you want me to show you?”

Swallowing hard, Gwen nodded, watching silently as Morgana sat down, pressing back against the dune. Planting her feet firmly into the sand, toes curling in it, she lifted her arse gently off the ground, spreading her legs wide so that Gwen could see her pussy lips, flushed deep pink compared to her pale skin and gorgeously slick with her arousal. Gwen let out a shaky breath as Morgana stroked down over her cunt, spreading herself open with her fingers, rubbing over her clit with her other hand, throwing her head back and keening wantonly as her thighs trembled, a little spurt coming out of her spread pussy, making Gwen gasp and Morgana keen in frustration, pushing out harder against the dune. The next sound from Morgana was a positively orgasmic moan as she rubbed harder at her clit, a powerful stream of piss flowing from her cunt, the hiss of it so loud that Gwen blushed, sure that everyone must be able to hear it, it’s forbidden nature making her cunt throb again, this time with desire as she watched transfixed by it. 

Arching her back, Morgana rocked her hips, squeezing every last drop out that she had to give, working her clit faster as she pushed two fingers into her still dripping cunt, fucking herself hard with them, keeping her eyes on Gwen as she cried out, her expression of determination and frustration smoothing out into one of pure unbridled pleasure as she quickly pulled her fingers back out of her cunt, spraying another wave all over the sand below her, this one of her come, even more forceful that her piss had been although it didn’t last anywhere near as long. 

“Fuck me…” Morgana said breathily as she sank back into the sand, smiling lazily up at Gwen. “Tell me that didn't get you going just a little bit.”

Gwen shrugged, questioning everything she'd ever thought about the mundane act of peeing. Yes, there always was a certain pleasurable sensation to taking a good, long piss after holding it in for a long time but she never thought watching anyone peeing, even Morgana, would make her heart race like it was racing now. “I… Yeah, maybe. Just a little bit.”

“Good,” Morgana nigh on growled, pushing herself up, smiling proudly at the dark patch of sand she'd left behind her as she stepped over it and shimmied back into her knickers, dusting herself off. “Now what are we going to do with you? You’ve made such a mess of your shorts. You can’t go back like that. Not if we want to keep this our little secret.” 

“I don't know,” Gwen said shakily, her head and mind a rollercoaster, still feeling ashamed of her own accident despite how much she’d liked Morgana’s show. 

“I do, hold on…” Morgana held up a finger as if telling her to stay before she stepped out from behind the dune and fetched her sarong from her bag, returning to Gwen and offering it out to her. “Take your clothes off but keep the swimsuit on. I want you to stay nice and wet for me.”

“They’ll notice though, that I'm not wearing my clothes and that I'm wearing your sarong,” Gwen said, voice clouded with doubt. 

“They're boys,” Morgana stated, very matter of factly. “They wouldn't notice if we completely swapped outfits. Give me your shirt.”

Reluctantly, Gwen handed over her shirt, watching as Morgana slipped it on and tied the tails under her tits, bearing her midriff. “That tenner I owe you, double or quits, they don’t even blink.”

“You're on,” Gwen agreed, relaxing a bit now that her and Morgana were falling back into old habits. Just like normal girls covering each other’s arses as they popped a squat.

“I’ll have you this time,” she said challengingly, holding out her hand. “Shorts.”

Wincing, Gwen finished unzipping them. The distance and time it took seeming nothing compared to when she was desperately trying to get them off before. Slowly peeling them off her skin, she handed them over; relieved to see them go in a plastic bag, completely out of sight. Tentatively, she tied the sarong around herself hiding the thankfully quick drying bottom of her swimming costume. 

“Ready?” Morgana asked, taking Gwen’s hand, something unspoken, though perhaps not quite unremarked, went between them as they emerged from behind the dune, stepping over Morgana’s puddle as they did. 

Gwen was certain Merlin and Arthur would instinctively know somehow but they didn't even stop their game for them. Gwen was happy to part with that twenty quid, exchanging it for the bottle of water Morgana was adamantly handing her. 

“Drink up,” Morgana said encouragingly. “You have three more bottles to get through before we head home and we won’t be stopping at the services on the way. Do you think you can make it?”

Gwen held Morgana’s eye, considering this odd turn their friendship had taken and deciding she was more than ok with it. Excitement rose in her chest as she took the bottle and took a long drink from it. “Double or nothing?”

“Deal,” Morgana said, shaking Gwen’s hand. Gwen wasn't quite sure what the double would be, or the nothing for that matter, but she really wanted to find out.

**Author's Note:**

> As of 01/01/18, I'm opting to disable comments. [More information here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13077201).


End file.
